Go For It
by Kyna O'Connell
Summary: After living with his aunt, Kyle returns to find that nothing has changed. Getting to know his SBF, however, will prove that things on the outside may be similar to how he left them, but nothing will ever be the same. Multi-Parings-Style-Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

A/n: I would like to thank PimpedOutGreenEar for beta-ing this for me. Chapter two is in the works, so with out making this horribly long, here is chapter one... Short, of course. Next one will probably be either longer or shorter.

DISCLAIMER: I don't see the point in these things. I am obviously too young, and lacking certain male genitalia, to own South Park. There, that simple.

**Go For It**

**Stan**

There's something to be said about the chaos that is food service: the sizzle of grease, the rush of running water, the whir of fans, the cursing and drama that goes hand in hand with the work environment. Yes, Stan loved his job, there's no denying that fact, but sometimes he really, really wished he had called in sick.

"Stan, I'm sorry," Red started. "It's really not my fault."

"Oh god. Give me a second." He took a deep breath and prepared for the worst.

"Three Buffalo Dogs, Six Chili Cheese Burritos, Four Burritos, 10 Fries, Seven Onion Rings, Nine Corn Dogs, annnd, one Frito Pie." With every fryer item Red called off, Stan winced. Saturdays were the worst days ever.

Thank god Kenny was on Floater Duty today. Unlike Stan, Kenny was a god on fryers. In no time at all they had the massive order submerged in oil, and shortly after had everything wrapped and bagged. The process repeated itself throughout the day, and Stan couldn't have been happier for shift change. As it was, poor Craig had to stay until 5pm, when Token would haul his happy ass into work, which totally sucked for him. Stan waited outside the bathroom to change out of his work uniform, talking to Kenny through the door.

"Dude, you hear about the new kid in Mr. Carson's class?" Came Kenny's muffled question.

"What? Nah, dude. Since when did we get a new kid? Please tell me it's a super-hot chick, and not another nerd like that Kyle kid." Stan wasn't really that interested in the topic of conversation- Gossip never was his favorite thing to listen to. He could hear Kenny laugh, the sound of rustling fabric alerting Stan to his eminent exit. Sure enough a few seconds later, the bathroom door slid open.

"Well, he is super-hot, for a dude anyway. But his clothes scream total nerd. He even brought his graphing calculator on his first day," He pulled his hood up so that his next words sounded nothing like "I'm gonna wait in the car. Hurry up."

Now, Stan was never one to be…Social, as one might call it, but he did have friends. Well, a friend and multiple acquaintances. His week consisted of routine. School, work, and home, with minimal time for his love of all things auto mechanical during the week, and after work Saturday, he and Kenny would always hang around Starks Pond, the library, or the arcade. Mostly they hung out at the arcade 'til around seven, and cut loose from there when it got too crowded. Stan was happy this way.

That Saturday was no different, well, not really. It seemed as though the gossip and mystery surrounding the new kid in town followed them everywhere. It was all anyone could stand to talk about, and it was driving Stan mad. Who cares if the new kid has a super cute ass? And so what if he used to live here? Didn't anyone care about the important things going on around town, like the election next month for the next mayor? Or even the protest against the use of endangered species in circuses? It was all really stupid. At least, to him it was.

**Kenny**

Saturday was crazy. After leaving the arcade, Kenny went home to a trashed house, drunk parents, and a hungry little sister. After putting a few waffles in the microwave and setting the table, he called Karen in and made her a plate. Even at 13, she still refused to talk much. The only time she ever said anything was when she was talking to her big brother.

After cleaning up the kitchen and getting Karen a change of clothes, Kenny headed to bed intent on sleeping in on his day off. His intent however, would be ignored. At 8 the next morning he was called in to open, and as he grudgingly roused himself, he cursed the name that was Chef, and all that came with it. He had to wonder why his boss only ever called him in when someone couldn't make it. Well, if Kenny was anything, then it was reliable, and Chef knew it.

He dressed himself and found his work hat. After lazily tucking his hair beneath it, he made his way out the door. Drive-in Delight was only about a half-hour walk away, and by the time he'd made it there, Chef had already unlocked the back door for him and was sitting in his office. Kenny clocked in and washed his hands before getting started setting up the stations. It really sucked opening alone. It was far too quiet for the blonde's comfort, and he quickly got lost in thought. His mind drifted and wandered aimlessly for a while before he found his thoughts turning rapidly to the new boy.

This Kyle seemed so familiar. His bright red hair was eye catching, and Kenny couldn't help but be reminded of his old childhood friend, Kyle. When he and his friends were still in grade school, they'd known a boy with the same red, afro like hair, but for the life of him, Kenny couldn't remember what happened to him. He knew that the boy's younger brother, Ike Broflovski, was still around, along with his parents and nerd of a cousin, also named Kyle. It was like the boy had just dropped off the face of the planet.

Before he had time to continue down that path of thought, Bebe had made her way in and was in the bathroom getting ready for her shift. Now, something everyone knew about Kenny was his obvious status as the town man-ho, and he was damn proud of his reputation. What most, well, no-one, really, knew about was his gigantic crush on Bebe Stevens. It wasn't his normal "Oh god, s(he's) hot. I gotta tap that." crush. No, this was way, way bigger than that. The only person who knew of his dirty secret was Stan, and he definitely wouldn't say anything to anyone.

Of course just because he liked the girl didn't mean she was exempt from his usual shenanigans. If anything she was the target of more pranks and jokes than anyone else. This being the case, the poor boy wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to mess with the gorgeous blonde. Ever so quietly, Kenny crept towards the bathroom door. Careful, as not to alert her of his presence, he tossed the bathroom door open and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"BEBE! MY LOVE!"

He was met with an answering screech and a knee to his face. Falling gracelessly to his ass, he couldn't help but laugh, even as he felt blood begin to trickle around his lips from his throbbing nose. It wasn't exactly the reaction he was expecting, but with Bebe things were always a surprise.

"Oh, my fucking God, Kenny, what the hell? You scared the shit out of me," She sounded agitated, but as soon as she saw the blood her anger dissolved into concern. "Are you okay? I didn't break anything, did I? " She kneeled in front of him, her skirt lifting just enough for Kenny to get a good look at her pink smiley face underwear.

"Nice smiley thong ya got there Beb's." The shit-eating grin was quickly smacked off his face. As soon as it was knocked off, however, it was replaced with a look of feigned pain. Poor Bebe stood no chance against Kenny's lost, hurt puppy face.

"You're an asshole Kenny McCormick. A mean, horrible asshole." She quickly finished putting her hair up, stepped over the boys' prone form and headed towards the front of the store to unlock the carhop doors.

Things settled into routine as more people showed up for their shifts. Kenny was regulated once again to floater duty, and started cooking meat as soon as the restaurant opened for the day. Sundays were always fairly slow, so around 2:30 Chef cut him loose so that he could head home. Sighing in relief, he called Stan to see if he could swing by before his shift and take him home. He couldn't of course, but that was beside the point, so he took off walking.

His trip was silent, and as he cut through back yards he was once again lost in thought. Aimlessly traipsing through backyard play-sets and avoiding pets, he found himself behind the Broflovski home. Greeted by a familiar voice, he turned and noticed Ike sitting on his back porch, playing cards with Filmore.

"Hey kid, what's up?" The blonde asked, walking over towards the two boys.

"Not much, but guess what?" The Canadian seemed excited, something rarely seen on the stoic genius's face. Kenny shrugged and indicated for Ike to continue. "Kyle's back from Aunt Sherry's!"

"…Really?" Kenny was floored. Had Kyle really been with his aunt all this time? Why hadn't he ever called him? Or Stan? Or anyone for that matter?

"Yeah! Come on, Ma's making dinner. You guys can catch up while Filmore and I finish our game."

**Stan**

Monday was about as boring as watching a snail race. A 50 meter snail race, to be exact. School was sleep inducing for Stan, and work was no better. The logic behind having four people in the kitchen on a Monday evening would never dawn on him, because there certainly was never enough business to warrant having such a gross amount of people in such a small place. Boredom was rampant, and with boredom comes very, very bad ideas.

Wendy was sitting quietly at the side counter, flipping through a magazine and dipping potato chips lightly in ketchup when it happened. Stan saw the evil glint in Kenny's eye, and knew the blonde was up to something at least relatively scream–inducing involving the unsuspecting brunette girl. In a flash Kenny had scraped enough ice out of the ice-cream freezer to make a nice sized ball, jumped over the counter and smashed it down Wendy's neck and back. Chips went flying, and Kenny earned himself yet another bloody nose.

Kenny's injury count for the month:

6 punch induced nosebleeds.

1 sprained ankle, and

A busted sinus cavity.

A fairly low count, all things considering. By the time Wendy had gotten up, Kenny had already ran around the building and hid in the bathroom. Stan couldn't help but laugh when he was called in for backup, and helped an irate Wendy pry the door open. The following injury incurred with the athletic brunette feeling not even the slightest hint of guilt, and he really couldn't contain his laughter when shortly after Wendy exited the bathroom Kenny followed holding his nose and limping just the slightest bit.

It was as Stan was shutting down tables for the night that he noticed a little green beat up 2-door Ford Escort, circa 1996, pull into the back lot. To say that Stan was a bit of a car buff was like saying the quasi-emo boy only slightly enjoyed playing baseball- pure blasphemy. While his attention was on categorizing the vehicles' parts and outward damage, everyone else was paying attention to the driver who had just stepped out. He'd just turned back to finish putting up the pickles when he heard it.

"Oh, my Gawd, Wendy! Look! See, I told you he had the cutest ass!" Screeched Bebe, grabbing Wendy's arm and pointing at the lanky bundled up figure headed towards the front of the building.

Kenny made a noise in the back of his throat and smacked his forehead. He left the sink and poked Stan in his ribs, making him jump and turn toward his friend.

"Jesus Christ! Don't do that!" he yelled, smacking Kenny's hand.

"Dude, I gotta go talk to Chef about something, wait a bit before you head home?"

"Uh, sure. But what do you need to talk to Chef about? He made sure we had the same schedule this week, right?"

"Nah, dude. I wanted to see about getting a friend of mine a job." He grinned and walked off, leaving his dark haired friend slightly baffled and a little miffed on having to wait to go home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Stan**

There were very few people Stan couldn't stand to work with, and Thomas and Tweek had made that list. It wasn't that he didn't like them as people, really it wasn't. It was more that he despised their work ethic than anything else. Tweek was always messing up drink orders and spilling things everywhere, while Thomas couldn't keep up with fry orders and cooking meat even when they were completely dead. It drove the poor brunette up a wall to have to close with them by himself. The only thing that could make matters worse would be having Wendy carhopping alone, simply because of her 'chicken-scratch-wish-it-were-hand-writing'.

"Seriously? Can you honestly tell me this is supposed to be a double cheese, with pickles, TACO SAUCE, and mustard? They're called a 'commas' Wendy. Learn to use them." Aggravation was more than apparent in his voice, and he knew it. But after the third order in a row that he found illegible, the brunette found that he couldn't hold it in any longer. At least she had the decency to look embarrassed when he called her out on it.

"Sorry, but it's not my fault. I have to keep Craig from cussing out customers. I'd like to see you train him, take orders, and make sure the cash box stays even." She sighed and walked out the side door to go rescue yet another unfortunate customer from said employees' foul mouth. Stan sighed in defeat and turned back to trying to work out orders.

It was just after the dinner rush that Stan knew his day would only be getting worse. Their beloved boss, Chef, had entered the kitchen to do meat count, as was usual at 6:30 pm. What was unusual, however, was who had accompanied him. The boy was skinny, appearing lithe and lean. He was tall too, much taller than Stan, and had a mass of red hair covered in the standard Delight headgear. The brunette stopped filling the mustard bottle and stared, voice escaping him.

After Chef had finished counting full pans he turned towards the rest of the kitchen.

"Children, I would like you all to meet your new co-worker, Kyle. Kyle, this is the night crew, or some of it at any rate." The large man put a hand on Kyle's back, pushing him forward. "I'm leaving him here with you all. Please go over rules and procedures with him, and make sure he starts on fryers for the rest of the night, I'm going home. Stan, I want you to lock up. Make sure you drain the table tonight, it's starting to smell again."

Stan was tossed the keys to the back door as Chef turned and walked out the door. It was quiet for a moment, no one sure what to say. Stan collected himself, and started talking.

"Okay then. Well, up front are where the carhops usually are unless they're taking orders. Right now Wendy is outside sweeping the lots, but the angry looking kid in the blue hat is Craig," he started, watching as the normally dispassionate boy waved calmly over the counter. "Up front on drinks is Tweek. Try not to startle him while he's got liquid in his hands. The mess is god-awful." Tweek made an anxious noise in the back of his throat, managed a strained 'Hello' and turned back to wiping the counter. "The quiet kid in the corner is Thomas. Don't mind him if he starts cussing for no reason. It's normal," The boy with the dirty blonde hair waved while stirring a pan of meat. "And I'm Stan."

Kyle stood there, unsure what to do, looking around the tiny kitchen, shifting nervously. "Well, uh, what am I supposed to do then?"

Stan couldn't look away. The boy in front of him just seemed so familiar and he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Do I know you from somewhere?"

**Kenny**

Kenny wasn't really one for embarrassment, but there was one thing that made him feel absolute humiliation. His father, while sober, tended to be a rather callous man. When he was drunk, he became nearly soulless, and utterly brutal. When he was younger Stuart was mostly just a mindless drunk, but as the years went on he became volatile. The first time Officer Barbrady brought his dad home, Kenny was mortified. The second, third, and forth time, Kenny knew what real humiliation felt like. It wasn't like the time everyone thought he had head lice. It wasn't like all the times his friends would look at him with pity at the lunch table. It was a burning, clenching pain in his chest, the heat of which refused to leave his face.

Over the years Kenny learned to ignore the drunken stupor his father put himself in. He would lock himself in his room, or take a walk when his mother and father started screaming. He would put on a movie, volume all the way up, and hold his sister.

Tonight, however, the blonde's humiliation reached a whole new level. It was nearing midnight when he got the call, his fathers' slurred voice grating on his eardrums.

"Kenny, get yer ass down here and pick me up."

"Pick you up from where dad? And with what car? You took the truck when you left." Kenny wanted to scream. Not only would he have to wake up Stan in the middle of the night and have him drive to god knows where, but he would have to tell his mother where he was going. The fight that would ensue when they brought Stuart home was bound to be utterly unpleasant.

"I'm in Denver, ya un-gra-ful bastard. Get some fuckin' bail money an come get me!" Stuart yelled, making Kenny move the phone from his ear.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do." Kenny replied tensely before hanging up and shooting a text to Stan in hopes that maybe he was asleep and this whole fiasco could be put off until tomorrow after school.

**Stan**

The god awful tone his phone emitted jarred Stan from his state of half sleep. Leaning over towards his bedside table, he smacked his hand down on the offending object, quickly flipping it open and reading the message displayed on the screen.

To: Stan Marsh

Sent at 11:56pm

dude r u up? dad was in Denver and got locked up. he took the truck with him or I would go get him myself.

Tapping out a quick reply, the brunette sat up and felt around for his shoes before pulling on a shirt. Sometimes Stan was incredibly thankful that he was comfortable sleeping in his jeans. He grabbed his keys and silently crept to his front door, snagging his keys off the hook. Half asleep though he might have been, he wasn't stupid enough to start the car in his driveway. Instead he switched out of park, put it in neutral, and steered out onto the street.

Making it to Kenny's was simple, and as he was sure that he'd been asleep for the entirety of the two minute drive, it was yet another thing to be grateful for. Leaning his head back, the brunette caught sight of a blonde head popping through a window Stan knew led to Kenny's room. Stan watched in amusement as Kenny dodged around the obstacle course that was his yard, not bothering to hide his laughter when the blonde fell face first over an up-turned wash tub. He couldn't stop the raucous howling that escaped him when Kenny finally made it to the car door.

"Dude, it's not that funny." The blonde pouted.

"Hell yes it is."

"No, it's not."

"Dude, you know it is. Besides, I can laugh at you if I want; you're the one who woke me up in the middle of the night to go get your dad. Again." As his laughing subsided and he pulled the car out on to the road they both grew quiet.

The drive to Denver was a long one. 30 minutes in, however, silence rang though the car, and it was driving Stan absolutely nuts and made it rather hard for him to stay awake. It probably didn't help that Stan was angry with his best friend for not cluing him in on certain events. Specifically, the return of one Kyle Broflovski. He reached over and pushed in an old mix tape into the player. The music might be earsplitting and old, but at least it would keep him awake.

"God! Dude, turn that shit down." Kenny yelled over the music, unexpectedly woken by the blast of sound from the crackling speakers.

Stan smirked, and turned it down before looking over at the blonde.

"So, why didn't you tell me the new guy was Kyle?"

There was a pause, an intake of breath, and a rather awkward silence before laughter escaped from Stan's passenger seat.

"That's weak dude. Seriously."

"No, My darling Stanny-boy, It isn't. It's downright hilarious. So tell me- how'd you figure out it was him?"

"Don't call me that! And it was through a completely awkward conversation at work. Tonight was his first shift." The brunette gritted out, visibly annoyed.

Kenny continued to laugh, before finally getting himself under control. "So how'd that go? I thought he wasn't starting 'til tomorrow. I was gonna point you out to him then."

"He's crap on the fryers. And Tweek's going to have a spaz attack tomorrow." There was a grimace accompanying the words.

"Oooh! Gossip! What's Tweek gonna freak over now?" Came the excited reply.

"Craig paying 'special' attention to Kyle. You know how jealous the kid is. And about Craig's flirting problem."

Kenny kept laughing, while Stan continued to flit between amusement and being embittered.

**Kenny**

The ride was relatively quiet, aside from a few random jokes here and there. Kenny noticed the signs that meant Stan was beginning to brood over something. Not that the blonde couldn't figure it out, it was obviously something to do with Kyle's return.

As they pulled up to the Denver City Police Department, Kenny felt the immense dread that had been clawing at his stomach begin to reach a crescendo. He really didn't want to go in there.

"Come on, dude. Let's get this over with." Stan sighed at his right before opening his door and stepping out into the sub-zero night air of the city. Kenny followed suit and headed toward the entrance of the infuriatingly familiar station.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey, Once again, thank you to my AMAZING beta, PimpedOutGreenEar! Sorry this is so late, but writers block had me in its unforgiving clutches. Well, please enjoy!

Chapter Three

**Kyle**

It'd been a very long time since he'd last seen the snowcapped mountains that were the back drop to the less than sleepy little mountain town. It had been longer still, since he had last felt the immense feeling of down-right homey-ness. The crisp chill that permeated the air brought back fond memories of a childhood that he'd given up in exchange for something he had been told would better him as a person and as a member of his religion.

Living with his Aunt Sherry had been a nightmare in and of itself, but the fact that his cousin Kyle had been here all the while, living in the town he called home, well, that just served to make him a rather angry, angst ridden child come teenager. He'd been in town for a little over three days when the first of his childhood friends made an appearance- and boy how things had changed. Kenny, obviously, had grown. The perverted little blonde Kyle had grown up with had matured into a distinctly tall, boyish, sandy haired young man. Gone was the awful orange parka, and in its place was a dark brown leather coat. Instead of a hood muffling his voice, there was long, unkempt hair that shielded his eyes from the world.

"Kenny?" was the first thing out of his mouth, and instantly he felt slightly stupid. Of course it was Kenny. Who else had eyes that shade of blue?

"Kyle Broflovski, where the hell have you been?" The blond sounded irritated as he enveloped the shorter boy in a massive bear hug.

"Language!" Shouted Kyle's mother into the living room from the kitchen.

Escaping Kenny, the redhead flopped onto the couch with a sigh.

"At my Aunt Sherry's. You know, Kyle's mom? She lives on the east coast."

Kenny sat down next to him, face caught between a glare and a smile. It really had been a long time since he'd been home, and he'd missed his friends so much. That's not to say that he hadn't made friends while living with his aunt, but they weren't the same as his friends back home. Most of his friends had been girls, and he had truly missed hanging out with guys. It was great to be back.

"You know Stan is gonna flip his lid when he sees you, right?" The blond punched his arm before leaning on his shoulder. "So is Cartman for that matter. Did you know he's dating Wendy?"

"Seriously? I know I've been gone for ages, but when the hell did that happen?" Kyle was completely astonished; because really, the Wendy he remembered seemed to have more sense than to do something like date that fat bastard.

Kenny chuckled. "Around freshman year. Dude, she's got Cartman whipped. It's hilarious."

"Dude, what else have I missed?"

There was a long pause before Kenny answered. "Well, Craig and Tweek have been dating on and off for a year now. Stan came out of the closet, finally, and Chef opened up his own restaurant. He does pretty good business."

"Well shit man."

Kenny sat up and looked at him. "Hey, you should come work with me and Stan at Delight. I'm sure I can talk Chef into hiring you."

A job sounded really good to Kyle, especially since it would get him out of the house and away from his mother. It's not like he had anything better to do with himself since he got back.

"I'd be cool with that."

"You're gonna love it, dude. Besides, Chef pretty much hire's anyone, but if you wanna car hop, you're going to have to work the kitchen for a bit first. Boss man doesn't like the people out curb-side not knowing what the hell goes on in the kitchen."

Things had changed, definitely. The interview had gone well, and Kyle was to be in Chef's office the next day at 5pm to go over legal papers, have his ID copied, and make arrangements to get a food handlers permit. To say that Kyle was excited would be a gross understatement- he was ecstatic.

The excitement, however, was short lived. As soon as he walked in the door to the kitchen, the atmosphere became awkward. He'd been hoping to have Kenny with him when he reunited with Stan for the first time, but that obviously didn't happen. He spent the entire night recounting where he'd been, which in itself wasn't that weird. It was how the people he was working with interacted with him- especially Craig Tucker. If he thought Kenny was The King of double innuendo before he left, then Craig was The God now, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It seemed like at every available opportunity the stoic boy was in his personal bubble. To say that it was disturbing would be an understatement, as he felt increasingly uncomfortable. Wendy was overjoyed to see him, and had even invited him to hang out with her and Cartman the following Sunday, to which he politely declined.

Stan had hardly said a word since he'd told him who he was. He gave off a rather dark vibe, one that just screamed Do-Not-Talk-To-Me. Over all, he really just couldn't wait for the night to end.

The next day was just as uncomfortable, if that was even possible. Stan didn't say anything to him for the entire shift, and Kenny was so utterly enamored with Bebe that he barely noticed the world around him. Craig continued to invade his personally space and even went so far as to follow him to his car after work to ask for a ride home. He wanted to say no, but as he was about to give him a negative reply the wind picked that exact moment to pick up and blow snow into his face. He sighed before unlocking the passenger side door. Kyle started the car and pulled out of the employee parking section. He drove towards the old neighborhood, feeling too awkward to ask if Craig still lived in the same house. It was quiet in the car, or at least it was, until Craig decided to invade his personal space and start talking to him.

"Hey, Ky, do have any cigarettes?"

"Uh… no, I don't smoke."

"Well, if I can't have a cigarette, can I at least have a date?" The brunet leaned in close to Kyle's face, warm breath wafting over his cheek. The red head shifted away slightly to escape the damp heat, feeling far too uncomfortable.

"If I say yes, will you get the hell out of my bubble?"

"Well, if I must…" He leaned back in the passenger seat, "How does next Saturday sound?"

It was going to be a long week.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: A great big thank you to my amazing Beta, PimpedOutGreenEar for the wonderful job she did on this chapter, and a ginormous thanks to all who reviewed.

Chapter Four

**Ike**

Ike had never been so excited in his life! His big brother was finally coming home, and he couldn't wait to see him. Of course they had kept in close contact since he had learned to use a computer, and of course they talked on the phone every week, but it just wasn't the same as face to face contact. The last time he'd seen his brother in person was three years ago when the entire Broflovski family had made the journey via airplane to the east coast for Hanukkah. The entire time they had been there Kyle had been chastised and constantly put down by their mother. It had been a rather sad and confusing holiday for Ike because he just couldn't understand why his mother was acting that way, or what his brother had done wrong. Kyle's grades were perfect and, according to Aunt Sherrie, attended synagogue every week and was very involved in the church. Ike just didn't know what his big brother was doing wrong that their mother wouldn't let him come home.

They day had finally come, and Ike couldn't be happier. They had all gotten up early and piled into his dad's Honda Civic to make their way to the airport. The entire ride sucked for Ike because he was stuck in the back seat with a rather gassy Cousin Kyle. By the time they had made it to Denver to pick up Kyle, he was already standing outside the airport with his carry-on bag and his other luggage surrounding him, looking thoroughly confused and forgotten. The brunet was disappointed when his mom told him to stay in the car while she and Gerald helped Kyle load his things into the trunk of the car. All Ike really wanted to do was give his brother a bear hug and welcome him back, but instead he had to wait for their mom to move the seat forward so that Kyle could squeeze into the back with him and cousin Kyle.

It was a silent ride back, Sheila refusing to turn the radio on and carefully curbing any conversation. Ike spent most of the ride texting his best friend, Filmore, and impatiently waiting to get home so that he could come over and meet his big brother.

Cousin Kyle had pretty much made it clear that he refused to share a room with Kyle, so when they arrived at the Broflovski residence, Ike helped Kyle carry his luggage down into the basement. Gerald and Sheila had paid for a shifty looking contractor to finish the basement just in time for Kyle's arrival. The room was all but barren, aside from an empty entertainment center in the farthest corner from the door, a bed butting up next to the stairs, an oak dresser, and a bedside table. The walls were an off white, and the floor was covered by soft new carpeting. The room was sectioned off a third of the way down, and a rather dark looking hallway led to what Ike knew to be a closet and shower/toilet combo. Kyle had yet to say anything to his little brother, and that was fine by Ike. He figured that his big brother was most likely getting used to his unfamiliar surroundings. It had been a very long time since Kyle had been in South Park, after all.

"Filmore is coming over to play cards later. Wanna join?" was his clever way of breaking the silence.

"Phhtt. And get my ass handed to me by a couple of kids? Yeah, right. I think I'm just gonna stay down here and unpack. Have fun though. "

The tone of Kyle's voice said it all, even if his words hadn't. His brother wanted to be left alone.

It wasn't long after he'd gone upstairs that Filmore had shown up, and they moved onto the back deck to play cards. Shortly after a wild Kenny appeared and the rest, as they say, was history.

**Craig**

Craig was beginning to wonder why he had asked Chef if he could car hop in the first place. The pay sucked, the people were horrible, and the tips definitely did not make up for the customers' bad attitudes. However, after hours of what seemed like torture, surrounded by a seemingly endless stream of idiots, there appeared a bright light in his otherwise horrid day. That bright light appeared in the form of one, Kyle Broflovski. The last time Craig had seem him, Kyle had been short, annoying, opinionated, and above all, attached at the hip to that dumb ass Stan Marsh. Craig had no clue where Kyle had been sent for so long, but damn, did it ever do him good. His hair was one of the most noticeable differences, along with his height. Once one of the shortest boys in their third grade class, the red head had obviously shot up far beyond what the brunet would have expected, and his awful jew-fro had become tame waves that framed a rather masculine facial structure.

Now, Craig was known very well as one the most promiscuous boys in town. He often found himself flirting with just about anyone that caught his eye. This just so happened to be anyone that was remotely attractive, specifically blondes. His on again-off again boy toy, Tweek, was testament to this. Blondes fascinated him to no end. He knew it was wrong, but hey, he was an 18 year old male, what did you really expect? If he found someone attractive, he found them attractive. But…

He'd never seen anyone like Broflovski. When he spoke, it was captivating, and just his voice was enough to pull Craig in, and he didn't know what to do with himself. This had never happened to him before and he couldn't help feeling more than a few conflicting emotions concerning the red heads reappearance. He spent the next few days invading Kyle's space, gaining a date, and overall, making a general ass of himself. This was typical Craig Tucker behavior, and the only people to really notice his interest in Kyle, were Tweek, of course, Stan, and Kyle himself. No one said anything when he hopped over the car hop counter during the dead hours to get as close to the red head as possible, and the only repercussion for invading Kyle's personal space was the occasional smack or punch to the gut when his innuendos apparently got too out of hand, or a shove when Kyle was tired of having him so close. Not that it bothered him any. He liked the fact that Kyle was willing to be rough with him. It showed that he didn't take any shit, and Craig found that it was one of the many things he liked about him.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Craig was experiencing something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He was nervous about taking Kyle out. He hadn't been nervous about going on a date in years, and it was throwing him off and making him feel insecure, yet another feeling he was unused to. It confused him because the only time he had ever felt like this concerning a date was when he asked Bebe Stevens out in 6thgrade. It was his first real date, so of course he was nervous then, but that still didn't explain why he felt the way he did now. He felt as if he was losing his mind. Nothing affected Craig like this, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He spent two hours after work picking out his clothes. By the time he had settled on a pair of relatively clean jeans and a questionably clean dark blue shirt he felt like a total girl. With an hour left to kill before meeting up with Kyle, he decided to check his Facebook.

Facebook for Craig had always been somewhat of a time stealer, and tonight was no different. After playing Castle Ville for what to him seemed only around half an hour, he looked at the clock in the bottom corner of the screen and realized that he was nearly a half hour late for his date. Cursing himself, he quickly laced up his favorite black converse and ran out the door.

**Kyle**

He tapped his fingers idly on the table in the local Denny's, wondering whether or not he had been stood up. He pulled out his phone, checking to see if maybe his date had tried calling him to let him know he was going to be late. No new messages. No missed calls. It was 20 minutes after the agreed time that they had set to meet, and Craig still hadn't shown up. His coffee had gone cold about five minutes ago, and all he really wanted to do was go home and deal with his embarrassment alone in his room. He should have known that Craig was only fucking with him.

By seven thirty, Kyle was tired of waiting and stood to leave. After placing a couple of dollar bills on the table to cover his bill and tip the waitress, he was about to exit the building. He pulled out his phone again in the vain hope that maybe Craig had tried to get a hold of him. He thought about simply texting Craig to find out where he was, but in the end his pride won out, and he put the phone back into his pocket as he walked out the door and into the parking lot. Scanning the radio antennas in the sea of cars, Kyle spotted the bright red arrow that was attached to his car and made his way to it. The arrow had been a gag gift from one of his closer friends before he left. He supposed that it generally came in handy, seeing as he generally had trouble finding his car anywhere besides the front driveway.

When he slid into the driver's seat, the red-head sat there for a while thinking. He wondered why he let himself believe Craig was serious, why he let the brunet embarrass him. Not that it mattered whether or not Craig was serious. No, this date hadn't meant anything to Kyle. It hadn't meant anything to Kyle. It wasn't like in the past week the only one he really talked to outside of his little brother and father was Craig. No, Kyle talked to Kenny sometimes. Usually at school when the blonde needed help in class, but that was beside the point. The point was that he had other people to talk to, and he didn't need Craig's attention, didn't need Craig invading his space.

He started the car and pulled cautiously out of the parking lot. He drove home with the radio on, listening to the pop top 40. He realized being back in his hometown was nothing like he'd always hoped for it to be.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Great, heaping thanks to my Beta- PimpedOutGreenEars. Sorry it took so long, life decided to hold me hostage.

Chapter Five

**Stan**

Lately, it seemed that they deviated from routine more often than they stuck with it. It was Saturday night. Normally, Stan and Kenny could be found somewhere in the arcade at this time, but not tonight. No, Kenny pleaded and begged Stan until he finally relented and agreed to what Wendy had dubiously called a "Bro-Date." The brunette shuddered at the term, because really? The thought of dating Kenny McCormick made him want gag, even if he was gay. Not that there was anything wrong with Kenny. No, there was nothing wrong with him. It would just be weird to date his best friend.

They had agreed on Denny's for dinner, and the blond was quickly shoving down a Grand Slam, when Stan noticed a head of red hair that was unmistakable. He watched surreptitiously as Kyle was seated catawampus from his own table, ordering only a coffee. A few minutes later the red head had begun tapping his fingers and checking his phone. At some point Kenny had taken a moment to breathe before continuing to inhale his food at an inhuman pace and trying, unsuccessfully, to talk to his dinner partner.

"Dude, have you ever noticed how many hours Bebe works?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's weird. I don't even work as much as she does. Not only that, but she works at Bijou as an usher."

"Uh-huh."

"Dude, are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah. Uh-huh."

**Kenny**

Kenny turned, and following Stan's line of sight, immediately found the source of his friend's distraction. Grinning wickedly, he quickly formed a plan.

"Did you know Wendy is pregnant with Cartman's kid?"

"Sure. Yeah."

"Annie and Red are in a polygamist relationship with Clyde."

"That's an awesome idea, yeah."

"I caught Tweek trying to molest your dog."

"Okay."

"Dude?"

"Sure, Uh-huh."

Kenny waved his hands in front of Stan's face, coming to the conclusion that he would require a rather drastic statement to pull the brunette out of his stupor.

"I had rough, angry sex with my door knob last night."

"Sure, Sure. Whenever you wanna go."

"I saw Shelly out at Colfax Point."

"You saw Shelly WHERE?"

"Stop staring at the back of Kyle's head and eat your shit so we can hit the movies, dude. Seriously."

"Sorry. It's just, he came in alone, and I think he's waiting on someone."

"Yeah, so?" Kenny didn't understand what this had to do with their plans for the night. It's not like everybody and their cousin didn't know that Craig and Kyle had a date tonight. "He's probably waiting for Craig, 'Master of the Blank Face' to show up."

Stan looked at him, obviously confused. "They're dating?"

"Yeah dude. It's all Craig's been talking about for the past few days. You haven't noticed?"

There was silence. Stan had turned his head to keep looking at the back of Kyle's Jew fro. This went on for several minutes before Kenny sighed and turned to look himself.

"How long has he been here?"

"A good thirty minutes, give or take." Stan shrugged.

"You think Craig stood him up?"

"Well, he's leaving, so maybe."

**Kyle**

He could hear every creak and groan of movement upstairs while lying on his bed in the basement. He could hear his mother pattering about in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. He could hear Ike and his friend roughhousing in his bedroom. He could hear his dad pacing in the home office just off the living room, and his cousin Kyle up in his old bedroom rolling back and forth in the chair in front of his computer desk. He had come home just before eight o'clock and immediately went down stairs. He liked having his room in the basement. It was like a private apartment, a space wholly for him and him alone. His phone had gone off approximately thirteen times in the half hour he had been home, and the red head was happily ignoring it. What he could not ignore, however, was his brother coming downstairs to hand him the house phone.

"Phone for you, Kyle."

"Tell him to eat shit and die."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want nothing to do with that douche."

Ike sighed before heading up stairs, talking on the phone loudly. "Sorry Kenny. Kyle says, and I quote, 'Eat shit and die, I want nothing to do with you, you douche. '"

Kyle sat up and quickly and followed his brother up the stairs, diving for the phone before he could say anything more to the blond on the other line.

"You didn't tell me it was Kenny, ass hat!" He yelled.

"Well, you didn't ask, dumb fuck!" Ike screamed back.

"Language Boys!" Came their mother's loud voice from the kitchen.

Kyle wrestled the phone from Ike's grasp, holding it up to his ear only to hear the dial tone. He put the phone back on the cradle and went downstairs to grab his own cellphone. When he flipped it open he saw that he had nine missed calls and a text from Craig, two missed calls from Kenny, and a text message from an unknown number. Hitting redial, he waited for the blonde to answer his phone.

"Hello?"

"Yeah dude. It's me. Sorry I missed your calls. I'm trying to ignore the idiot."

"Is that why you wanted little Ike-y-Wikey to tell me to eat shit and die?" Kyle could hear the amusement in his friend's voice.

"Sorry Kenny. What's up?"

Kyle could hear laughter on the other end emanating from someone obviously standing close to Kenny. It sounded deep, like a full bellied laugh.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to meet me at Bijou and catch a movie."

Kyle paused for a moment. This couldn't be a coincidence. But hell, what did he have to do tonight anyways? He'd already been stood up for his date, and he really didn't want to spend his Saturday night alone and moping because of the ass-face.

"Uh, sure. What movie, and when does it start?"

He heard talking on the other end, but couldn't make it out. It was as if Kenny was holding his hand over the receiver.

"Well, we were going to see The Devil Inside, but if you don't want to we can pick something else," was the answer he finally got.

"The Devil Inside sounds fine. Wait…Who is 'We'?"

There was a scuffle and some grunting noises before Kyle heard a familiar baritone replacing Kenny's slight southern lit.

"Hey dude. I hope you don't mind, I stole your number outta Ken-doll's phone and sent you a text."

"Stan?"

"Yeah? So are you coming or what? I wanna buy the tickets before the theater is filled. Show starts in fifteen."

"Um… Uh, yeah. I'll be there. Grab a ticket for me, and I'll pay you back when I get there. "

"Sure dude."

Stan had apparently passed the phone back to Kenny. And the blonde said to hurry up before cutting off the call.

Well, even if he was stood up, at least he had something to do rather than mope, right?


End file.
